


Shaped Together

by yabakuboi



Category: Naruto
Genre: Discord: Umino Hours, Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-mission patch up, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:14:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23062279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yabakuboi/pseuds/yabakuboi
Summary: Iruka patches Kakashi up.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Comments: 9
Kudos: 173
Collections: 60 Mins To Gift - Masks





	Shaped Together

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 60 minute challenge in the Umino Hours Server! Gifted to helv, I hope you like it!  
> Theme: Masks, Keyword: Reflection, Color: Blue!

Iruka sits up as soon as the presence at his window makes itself known. Stretching over for the light on his nightstand, Iruka finds Kakashi’s sheepish face smiling at him from the other side of the glass, listing dangerously to the side and covered in dirt. 

“Troublesome,” Iruka grumbles as he gets out of bed, still too sleepy to be embarrassed to be dressed in a pair of loose boxers and nothing else. 

Kakashi grins at him from beneath the mask when Iruka slides the window open. “Yo—”

“Save it,” Iruka huffs. “And leave your shoes on the sill.”

“Yes, sensei,” Kakashi says cheerfully, carefully pulling his sandals off and leaving bloody footprints on Iruka’s floor when he steps into the bedroom. “I’m—”

“Shut up,” Iruka says, pulling a shirt on as he heads to the bathroom, kicking his bathmats to the side to save them from stains when Kakashi follows him in. He shoves Kakashi onto the toilet seat, eyeing him with tired eyes. There’s a large gash across Kakashi’s thigh, not too deep, but bleeding a dark trail down his pants leg. Iruka crouches by Kakashi’s feet and spreads his first aid kit out on the floor. “Just the leg?”

“Yes, sensei.”

Glancing up at Kakashi’s somber tone, Iruka can see the weariness in Kakashi’s eye, the tension of his brow, and the tired hunch of his shoulders, bracing one elbow on his good knee to keep from slumping over.

Iruka looks away. “You should take better care of yourself,” he murmurs, pulling a pair of scissors from his kit and cutting away at the fabric above the wound. “Tsunade-sama has been pushing you too hard.”

“Can’t be helped,” Kakashi says, helping Iruka pull the ruined fabric away from his bloody skin. “We’re already stretched too thin.”

“Take a day off.”

“I can’t.”

Scowling, Iruka wipes away the blood that’s dried and crusted down Kakashi’s thigh. “She can afford to give you a day.”

“I can’t—”

“Then don’t come back here again,” Iruka snaps, tilting his head back and glaring.

Kakashi pauses, regarding Iruka seriously, before the edge of his eye crinkles with a smile. 

“I’ll request sixteen hours.”

“Twenty-four.”

“Iruka.”

“Fine,” Iruka snaps. They fall silent as Iruka flushes the wound, blood and dirt dripping down Kakashi’s now bare leg. Kakashi barely even flinches, even though it must hurt, and selfishly Iruka is glad for it. He understands, he really does. Iruka himself has already taken on several low level missions during his days off to pick up the slack. 

But at the rate Kakashi is going, he’ll get himself killed if he’s not careful.

“Iruka,” Kakashi says again, and Iruka jerks from his thoughts when Kakashi touches his face. “Thank you.”

“Shut up,” Iruka says automatically, flushing. Stupid Kakashi.

The silence that falls over them is more comforting now as Iruka deems stitches unnecessary and begins to quickly wrap Kakashi’s thigh with a clean roll of bandages, glad when it doesn’t bleed through automatically. It’ll be sealed over by morning at the gentle rate Kakashi’s feeding chakra to it. 

Stupid, talented Kakashi.

“How are you feeling?” Iruka asks, standing and helping Kakashi to his feet. Deftly he begins to divulge Kakashi of his weapons and vest, neatly piling it all on the back of the toilet until Kakashi’s left with only his ruined pants, his shirt, and his mask. 

“Tired,” Kakashi admits, submitting himself to Iruka’s strip. His eye is twinkling with amusement when Iruka hesitates at the fabric covering his face. “You don’t have to ask.”

Iruka wrinkles his nose and folds down the mask below Kakashi’s chin, looking anywhere but at Kakashi’s face. And still he catches sight of the two of them in the mirror. He can admit that they look good together, disheveled and messy as they are standing in the middle of Iruka’s too small bathroom, Iruka’s face turned down but Kakashi looking at him intently, his thin lips curved into a soft smile. Iruka can feel it bloom in the middle of his chest, the love and joy and pride and a million other feelings pounding beneath his ribcage, the storm of emotions that Kakashi never fails to make him feel. 

“Do you want something to eat?” he says, distracting himself, willing his heart to slow.

“Sensei, don’t be embarrassed,” Kakashi croons, and Iruka smacks his shoulder. 

“I’ll go make you something,” Iruka says, trying to beat a hasty retreat until Kakashi grabs him by the wrist, gently tugging him back.

Kakashi is gorgeous. There’s no way around it, and after nearly a year, Iruka’s sure he shouldn’t still be so affected. But he is, and he tries to hide it as best as he can, looking sullenly at Kakashi and red in the face. 

Kakashi pulls him closer, reaching out and catching Iruka in a warm kiss, and Iruka melts immediately into it, wrapping his arms around Kakashi’s waist. They lean into each other, Kakashi’s hand on the back of Iruka’s neck as he tilts his head, tasting Iruka deeply, exchanging long, slow kisses, breathing each other in. Iruka hums into Kakashi's mouth, basking in the low-burning heat between them, the feeling of Kakashi solid and alive in his hold. Sighing and his eyes still closed, Iruka rests his forehead to Kakashi’s, the cold metal of the hitai-ate pleasant on his flushed skin.

“I’m home,” Kakashi says, softly, like he’s not sure he wants Iruka to hear him. Iruka smiles, leaning in to press another kiss to Kakashi lips.

“Welcome home,” he says, and when he looks, Kakashi’s staring at him with a mismatched gaze, plainly drinking Iruka in, storing it away even when Iruka scowls and smacks him again. “Don’t use that unnecessarily.” 

Kakashi grins at him, devastatingly handsome. “I assure you sensei, it’s absolutely necessary.”

Iruka swats at him again. “Clean up while I warm something up.”

“Maa, Iruka, I’m injured, can’t you—”

“In your dreams, perv,” Iruka says over his shoulder, and he can hear Kakashi’s muffled laughter when he closes the door on him.

He has a small meal of eggs and soup ready for Kakashi when he emerges finally, hair damp and dressed only in a pair of Iruka’s sweatpants that are a little too loose at the waist. He eats it slowly, leaning against the counter at Iruka’s side as Iruka fills the silence, chattering about his students and fellow teachers, and the annoying stream of ninja at the missions desk. Kakashi looks like he isn’t paying attention as Iruka talks, but he knows better, knows that Kakashi’s listening intently even as he meticulously eats his food, bite by bite.

When he’s done, setting the bowl aside, he leans fully into Iruka, resting his head on Iruka’s shoulder as he keeps talking for a while longer, attuned to the way Kakashi relaxes himself muscle by muscle, limb by limb, the tension he does so well at hiding with that lazy posture bleeding out of him.

“Bed?” Iruka asks when Kakashi is fully slumped against him, eyes closed and breathing easily.

“Maa, sensei, I might actually be too tired—”

“Don’t make me hit you again, Kakashi.”

Kakashi chuckles against Iruka’s neck, a warm puff of breath against his skin that sends a shiver down his spine. “Of course,” he says, and Iruka can hear the exhaustion clear in his voice.

“C’mon,” Iruka murmurs, and leads Kakashi away, turning the lights off as they go.

The bed is really too small for the two of them, too narrow and thin, dipping in the middle and forcing them together when they crawl under the covers. Iruka doesn’t mind though, and, when Kakashi curls himself into Iruka’s front, he’s sure that Kakashi doesn’t either. Kakashi tucks his head under Iruka’s chin and buries his face against his collar, breathing deep, and huddling himself in Iruka’s arms.

Outside, clouds part, and the moon casts a faint, blue glow through the window, just barely illuminating the one shape of the two of them tangled together.

“Iruka,” he says, voice low in the now silence of the night. Iruka hums, eyes closed and half asleep as he shifts a bit until Kakashi’s head is pillowed comfortably on his bicep, his hand trailing gently up and down Kakashi’s spine. “Thank you.”

Iruka hums again, drifting, and absently drops a kiss to the top of Kakashi’s head, breathing in the smell of his shampoo in Kakashi’s hair. “Love you,” he murmurs. Kakashi’s arms tighten around his waist. “Glad you’re home.”

He’s nearly asleep, nearly dreaming when he hears Kakashi's soft reply. 

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](https://yabakuboi.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/yabakuboi)! (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧


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